Notes on Writing 2

Time to conjure up something special.

Or, to simply get the fingers stretched out a bit and try to pull dormant ideas out of the dead zone...

Do I have what it takes? I simply don't know. Up until now, it sure doesn't seem like it. 

I can write, sure. I can put pen to paper and jot down nonsense. In complete sentences, no less. But I sincerely doubt I can do it on a consistent basis, or with any sort of direction or focus. 

Writing something substantial or marketable? The thought makes me queasy. It requires work and determination, ideas I've run from my entire life. I really don't think I have what it takes. 

Here I am, already questioning my ability to get the job done. But then, that's what this exercise is all about, right? Build a habit that becomes something more. That makes me a WRITER. That pulls me out of the funk kicking and screaming and becomes something that DEMANDS to be done. Only then will I have the wherewithal to actually accomplish something or write something of not. 

So here it is. I continue to write each day until the beast is exposed, wrangled, wrested, in my control. Keep going going going until faint whimper becomes innate, uncontainable desire. Transform the whispers of a dream into something with real-life impact.

I am still unconvinced. But I am going to keep trying until I've exhausted or snuffed out any last hope that this is/was what I thought it is/was. 

Sometimes it feels like it's in there. But when it comes time to yank it out, the motivation disappears. POOF. I'll find nearly any excuse to avoid doing this. And for someone who wants to write, that ain't good. 

Insecurity, lack of confidence, dread of failure. The standards. It could also be general laziness. I'm generally very lazy. Maybe if I just stick to a schedule I can develop the habit needed to overcome that flaw, push past the inclination to do nothing and build a habit that actually sticks. 

Yeah, if only. Avoiding the unavoidable is impossible because it's so UN. 

But I can't stop now. I have to push through. Push push push. Schedule a time each day to write and actually do the work. Stop making it avoidable. Don't treat failure as unavoidable. It's always going to whisper sweet, seductive nothings from behind the stage. 

There are plenty of things you see and observe and know. Grab a topic and run with it. So many do that so seamlessly, it seems. I need to follow suit and be a follower. Be a follower. Be a follower. 

Now, what should I write about? Twitter? Blech. The weather? I haven't yet lost my mind. Politics? There are so many people who do that better than me. Like, way better than me. WAY better.

Ahhh, perhaps that is the problem. I'm fearful of others. Of not being able to write anything that lines up with some silly notion of good or insightful. Why do I care? Can't I just write and let the chips fall where they may?

That is the question, isn't it? I should just ignore what I think will happen and stop comparing myself with others and stop stopping myself before I even start because of some silly idea that it won't match up with so-called good writers. Who gives a crap. 

Maybe I'm onto something here. Could it be? 

Oh. I need to throw this out there. Apparently I didn't do enough to protect the Johnny Normal brand and some UK hack has made it his entire persona. Shit. 

Write. Forget about what is and was and just do. Put in the finger taps and see what comes. That's what needs to happen. Stop asking 'can I do' and start just doing by the schedule. 

Yeah.